Love me (Jeff the Killer Love Story)
by XxXSweetstarXxX
Summary: An incompetent nineteen year old killer runs around trying to make 'friends', all the while seeking out a certain family member. But she ends up running into someone else. (This is my first time posting on here. I hope you enjoy.)
1. Chapter 1

A small girl, no more than ten years old with short messy brown hair and dull aquamarine eyes, walked into a living room, her bare feet tapping on the cold wood floor with each step. She wore a large silver hoody, which acted as a dress on her, and it would have slid off had she not been holding it up. The house, to her, seemed familiar, like she had been here many times before, yet she didn't recognized it. All memories were foggy in her head and the strange nostalgia she was getting felt bittersweet. "Daddy?" her voice came out low and hushed, almost as if she was scared. What was there to be scared of though? That thought entered her head and the only answer she could come up with was nothing. Nothing, as long as her daddy was there to protect her from the monsters under her bed and in her closet. The whispering voices that comes from either place always went away when he was around, as if they were scared, and that just proved that he was her hero. She could feel her cheeks heating up and embarrassment washed over her. She's ten, double digits, and yet she was still running to her father scared. Afraid the big bad boogeyman would get her. Ah, but what would Erik, a cute boy in her class, think of her if he knew? Surely Molly, her older sister, would go running and telling him how her little sister still slept with a nightlight because she thought a monster would gobble her up. Then both would proceed to mock her for it because they're a bunch of meanies. Her sister could be so cruel, probably going so far as to make up a rumor saying that she has a crush on him. Which was definitely not true, as boys are still icky. She couldn't risk catching cooties, what if skin turns blue with green polka-dots and her arms fall off? Just like that one girl, Juliha, said. She already got made fun of for getting held back in school, she didn't need any other reason to get picked on. She couldn't help it if she was... a bit slow when it came to learning. She even had to take special classes for certain subject. The last thing she needed was to be called polka-dot smurf. Then she'd have to sit in the back of the class and sit with that one boy named Drew, who ate worms, at lunch for the rest of her life. She'd even have to marry him then, while Molly married Erik and have hundreds of kids.

A small frown formed on her lips as she pouted at the thought. How would she avoid that? Perhaps, she'd just have to not like boys forever. No more worries of cooties or blue skin with polka-dots. While she was at it, she could just not grow up. Never having to take responsibilities like her mother or father had or having to worry about high school, dating, collage, prom, and eventually a wedding. She could forever stay that innocent little girl her daddy loved so much. Then she could just watch cartoons with her younger brother Cody all day. Speaking of him, where was he? Shouldn't he be out of school by now? Or shouldn't she be in school? Where was everyone else for that matter? It was eerily quiet, making the ringing in her ears more audible, as well as her breathing and heartbeat. Did they all go out to the park or somewhere else without her? She didn't like being home alone, that's when the monsters like to come out from their hiding spots. Not even the light of day could scare them off. "Daddy?!" her voice echoed throughout the house, worry laced within her voice. Did they really forget her? It seems like something her mother would do, not on purpose somewhat. It's just, her mother didn't really care to check if either her or her brother were actually there sometimes. Though it was a whole different story when it came to Molly. After all, Molly was the good child, the perfect one. She could do no wrong in their mother's eyes and was no doubt the favorite which wasn't right. Their father never showed favoritism. Honestly, it made her feel jealous, she wasn't going to lie to herself. Doesn't help that Molly loves to rub in that fact. What was so great about her sister anyway? Long blond hair? Sparkling blue eyes. Skinny body? Sure, she had always been a bit chubby, nowhere near the stick figure that her sister has, but her daddy said it made her look cute. That's why she hated clothes shopping with her mother. Her sister got all of the cute stuff because it "suited" her better while she got thrift store stuff. Not that she was complaining, there was actually a lot of cool stuff at the thrift store, but her friends would laugh at her for wearing cheap clothes. What does Molly have that she doesn't? "_Simple, your mother hates you._" A soft raspy male voice chuckled in her ear, a hot breath hitting the skin of her neck. A chill ran down her spine and fear engulfed her mind. It sounded like the monster in her closet, the one that called to her in the night to join it. Also like the one under the bed that asks her to hang her feet over the edge. The voice of the one that told her to push her sister out of a moving car, told her to punch and kick her brother. And it scared her, that's why she always ran to her father who reassured her that nothing was wrong. That it was all in her head. He wasn't here though, it was. So she just took off running, straight to the kitchen. "_You can't run from me. You can't escape your mind. You can't hide from-_" the voice kept right beside her and she shut her eyes tightly to avoid seeing it's face. Her body blindly made it's way into a room, whether or not it was the kitchen she dare not look, before she bumped into something. She let out a squeak as she fell backwards, landing on her butt, and instantly brought her legs up to her chest. She could feel her heart beating faster as a hand landed on her shoulder, causing her to shrill scream. As she screamed, the hand gave her a gently shake, but she only curled up tighter.

"Whoa, whoa! Sweetheart, calm down." a gentle voice said, trying to get her to stop screaming. She shivered, as the other voice was still present in the back of the room chuckling, but the familiar voice of her father made her feel safer. She quickly shut her mouth and wrapped her arm around her father's waist. "Honey, what's gotten into you?" she heard her daddy ask. The nostalgic feeling came back, stronger than before, and it almost felt like years since she last heard her father's voice. "T-the m-m-monster came back. I-i-it said I could never run, that I-I could never escape." she hiccuped a sob, not even noticing the tears running down her cheeks. She sniffled as her dad ruffled her hair. "There's nothing to be afraid of. That's what all those cheesy horror movie monster say. Nothing's going to hurt you, sweetie." "B-but-" "No butts, butts are for sitting. A certain someone's birthday is tomorrow and I need to know what kind of cake the birthday girl wants." She let go of him and back up, wiping her tears away with her hoody sleeve. "Chocolate, of course." "That's my girl! Gotta have that chocolate. Don't worry, this will be the best cake ever." her father grinned and walked over to a kitchen drawer, pulling out a cook book. "Daddy, you know you can't cook." she giggled a bit, remembering the last time he made her a cake. "Honey, I'm hurt. Don't you think I can make a decent cake?" he asked putting a hand over his heart, faking hurt tone. "Ah, no daddy. It's just... Last time you tried making a cake... You kind of, uh, got batter everywhere and almost blew the house up." she stood there awkwardly rubbing her arm, afraid she actually hurt his feeling. "You're mother wasn't too happy after that, was she?" he chuckled, hand now at the back of his neck. "Say, daddy. Why does mommy hate me and my brother?" she suddenly asked, a strange force appearing beside her and one of her hands moved slowly to her hoody pocket. "Honey, you're mother doesn't hate you. Nor does she hate your brother. She loves you both very much." "Then why does she favor Molly more?! Why does she get treated better than us?!" she shouted, feeling angrier than she should have. It wasn't fair though, and he knew it. He was just making up excuses for her, how could he do that? "Honey, don't raise your voice at me!" he said sternly. "Why are you just sitting by letting her do this?! Don't you love us?!" something in her wouldn't let her stop, wouldn't let her drop it. The force beside her was angry, wanting revenge for an unknown deed and something was quite wrong. There was something in her pocket, something sharp. She could feel the cold metal touching her skin of her palm, she could feel the edge of a blade gently grazing her fingertips. She could also feel a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "What has gotten into you? Go to your room if you can't behave, young lady!" her father pointed to the door and gave her a disappointed look. "Daddy, how could you? Defending such a piece of trash. She's going to get what she deserves, whether you want it or not. She needs to learn that the past can not be erased, no matter how hard you try. And you, your life is like my mother's, going to end very soon." that wasn't her talking, not anymore. That was the force beside her talking, controlling her. She'd never do such a thing, she'd never yell at her daddy nor ignore an order. It was taking over, the boogeyman, making her act this way and she couldn't even say sorry. She knew how this would end now, all foggy memories now clear as day, and nothing she could do can stop it.

In the blink of an eye, a sharp blade was plunged into his chest and blood gushed from the wound. His body shook before collapsing to the ground, coughing up blood as his life faded away. She gasped and ran over to him, tears stinging her eyes. She fell down to her knees, not caring about the blood pooling around the body, and hugged up to him. In the blink of an eye, a sharp blade was plunged into his chest and blood gushed from the wound. His body shook before collapsing to the ground, coughing up blood as his life faded away. She gasped and ran over to him, tears stinging her eyes. She fell down to her knees, not caring about the blood pooling around the body, and hugged up to him. "I-I-I didn't want this." she sobbed, turning her head slightly to look at the shadow figure standing behind her. "_It has to be this way. They will love me._" the figure laughed darkly before leaping at her.


	2. Chapter 2

She flinched as she awoken from the dream, groaning as she tiredly rubbed her forehead. "Ugh, I'm so disappointed in you dream. You started off promising, then you give a crappy ending." That had to be the seventh time (not that she was counting) she's had that dream and though it had bothered her the first couple of times, now it just annoyed her. It wasn't even accurate, clearly her favorite kind of cake was red velvet and the monster under her bed was a wuss. It was just a dream though, no way for her to actually control it but she did forget how adorable her younger self was. Especially seeing that cute face crying from fear. At the same time, it was quite annoying and part of her wanted to just rip her vocal cords out. 'It wouldn't be hard to just snap-' Wait, what was she thinking? She couldn't do that to herself. Well, she could but it wouldn't end nicely. She looked around the faintly lit room, dull moonlight shining through an open window. Her mind was still groggy but it registered somewhere in there that the window should have been closed. Hadn't she closed in before going to sleep? Paranoia started to kick in and she slowly sat up, feeling a pair of eyes watching her every move. Making her feel as though she was fresh meat in front of a pack of hungry wolves. That unnerved her and she quietly reached over the bed to turn on the bedside lamp.

When the light came on, she was momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness. She closed her eyelid involuntarily, as a reflex, and felt around for the bed sheets to uncover herself when she felt a cold hand instead. Her eyes flew opened and jerked back in response, moving to the opposite side of the bed. Her eyes looked back and forth across the room, seeing as the light pink walls of the room was splattered with a brownish red color here and there. The fuchsia bed sheets, which she was half way wrapped up in, had one large dark red stain on it and smelled rather gross. Looking beside her, she found that the pair of eyes she felt watching her belong to a young blond teenage girl who looked fifteen. The girl's somber hazel eyes were glossed over and unfocused, so she moved her hand over to the younger girl's face and slide her eyelids closed. Looking around, there were several other girls there, all of different age, laying on torn up brown stained sleeping bags. Couple of them, a brunette fourteen year old and dirty blond sixteen year old also had their eyes wide open. She gave a small tsk, unwrapping herself from the bed cover, and got off the bed. She picked up a small green Christmas throw blanket, which had remained clean, off the floor and tossed it onto the foot of the bed. She took a step towards the window sill only to fall flat on her face, thanks to her foot that had fallen asleep. She grunted, staying there on the ground for a second, before getting up and carefully making her way to the window. She stared at the dark outside world beyond that was kept out by a wall and gave a loud yawn, all alertness from before had faded off. She was still a bit tired but the need to get going was more important than a little sleep. She could always sleep later, in her own little makeshift bed at the place she was staying. What time was it anyway? She didn't see any clocks around here, not that she had really been looking in the first place. She still needed to figure out why she was here, and who her new friends were? Something about a sleepover... "This has got to be the worse sleepover I've ever been to. Not that I've been invited to many sleepovers. I'm glad I was invited and all but I had hoped we would all stay up playing games." she frowned, not getting any responses from her friends. "Come one, you don't have to give me the silent treatment. I'm sorry I fell asleep first and ate up all the popcorn." she walked over to one girl, a sixteen year old with red hair, and poked her with the toe of her shoe. Still getting no response, she stuck her bottom lip out and pouted. "You girls aren't being very nice, you know. And look, you've got paint all over the room and on all of you. You even got it on me, now I need to change clothes." she looked down at her outfit, just a blue t-shirt and some loose sweatpants which she had borrowed from one of her other friends, and saw they were badly stained as well. She took the hem of the t-shirt and raised it above her nose, taking a quick sniff at it. A musty coppery smell assaulted her nostrils and she gagged, pulling the hem back down. "Ewwww, what is that smell. You girls didn't spray me with perfume, did you? Because it smells awful." No doubt about it, she definitely needed a change of clothes. Luckily she didn't wear her favorite hoody out to this party. She walked over to the girls laying on the floor and picked them up one at a time, helping them over to the bed. She had to help them get settled in before taking the Christmas blanket and tucking them in. "They certainly worn themselves out, huh? Too bad I can't stay any longer, I'd love to see their faces when they wake up." she gave a soft smile as she walked over to the door. "I hate to say this, really, but this is goodbye my friends. I doubt we'll get to see each other again but I hope I'll always been in your hearts. And next time, don't be so messy with the paint. Hehehe, though I must admit red suits all of you." she giggled, glancing back at them only once before walking out.

Not another word was spoken as she walked down the darkened hallway, footsteps cushioned by soft carpet. A little ways down the empty hallway was the parent's bedroom, which she had to sneak carefully into in order to get a change of clothes without disturbing the adults' peaceful slumber. She more or less just grabbed the first thing she touched before heading across the hall into the bathroom. She turned the sink faucet on, letting the water run warm, before washing her hands and face with a sweet smelling soap. Letting the red liquid that was once smeared on her get swept away down the drain, watching intently has it did. Sometimes she wondered where all the dirt and paint went, but that would have to be an adventure (probably a rather boring one at that) for another day. She stripped out of her old clothes, kicking them off to the side, and changed into a plain yellow cotton t-shirt and tan khakis that fit on her well enough. The shirt was a little big on her but the pants were okay. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, messing with her dark purple hair which she had dye a long time ago. It had been a while since she got her hands on a box of purple hair dye so the brown root of her natural hair color was noticeable. Not to mention it was all tangled up and oily looking. Her left eye, which it was a miracle that she still had it, was whited over. A large claw mark ran across the blind eye, leaving the skin around it irritate and swollen, and the wound itself never fully heal (it started to look infected). A small thin scar starting a little away from the corner of mouth on the right side and ended near her ear on the opposite side of her face, like a carelessly done lopsided smile which looked stupid. That one hadn't been her fault, unlike her left eye, as her adoptive "father" (he didn't like being called that) made it with a clothes hanger. A rather large animal was the cause for her eye but the less she remembered of that stupid animal, the better. Those things are certainly not has friendly as the ones in those cartoons she used to watch.

She giggled, feeling the skin around her blind eye throb in a mild pain, and exited the bathroom. On her way out, she heard the sound of her stomach growling, an obvious sign she had missed dinner. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to stay a bit longer, at least to get a bite to eat. Unless, of course, they didn't have anything she liked, she was rather a picky eater. She really didn't have time to cook either but if she had to, then she will. It'd have to be something egg related though, that's really all she knew how to cook. Besides it was a quick and easy thing to make, especially cheesy eggs. Just like her daddy used to make for her in the mornings before school, and that was how many years ago? Maybe ten. Doesn't matter anyway, right now her stomach was begging for food and she needed to get her butt to the kitchen. She walked down some stairs, well, more like she slide down the railing but she ended up falling down gracelessly when she reached the bottom. She shook it off though, as it wouldn't hurt to get a few bruises, and picked herself off the ground. Not how she expected that to end, but she'd probably just tried again on a later date. She headed straight to the bright kitchen (which somebody forgot turn off the lights), straight to the refrigerator and threw the door open. Only to find out that there was no eggs. "Darn, now all I can think about are the cheesy eggs I'll never get. And it would have been delicious too." she frowned, slamming the fridge door shut, not knowing what to eat now. She even checked the small cabinets beside the refrigerator for anything good but ended up with absolutely nothing. Not even any cereal. Well, she'll just have to find food somewhere else. "I wonder-" she was cut off by the sound of something hitting the floor with a crack and almost gave herself whiplash turning her head towards the sound. She didn't see anything, nothing to be found on the floor, but now she knew she wasn't entirely alone.


	3. Chapter 3

Her head was turned, staring rather intently towards a doorway that lead into a lone dining room. She felt her blood turn to ice as her breath hitched in her throat, clearly startled by the sudden sound. Her hands curled up into fist, shaking a bit nervously, and a chill ran up her spine. Did one of the girls upstairs wake up and accidentally break something looking for her? She didn't hear any footsteps, unless her friend was trying to sneak up on her and surprise her. Could it have been a ghost, like the ones in story books, trying to mainspring some mischief? Cause she hoped not. She didn't like ghosts or the supernatural, things she couldn't touch or feel. She enjoyed the warmth, the feeling of skin, and seeing all her friends' happy faces. Or perhaps someone broke in while she was sleeping and hadn't left yet. She did hear several tales on the News about a bad person breaking into people's houses and severely hurting them. Some had even been at a few of her friends' homes and she couldn't even check on them thanks to the police. Was there a- what did they call it? A loon? Was there some loon here in the house with her and the people upstairs? She could already feel his or her's eyes on her and she stood there like a kid who was caught with their hands in the cookie jar. She could already feel their hot breath in her ear and their cold hands wrapping around her throat. Her hand instantly flew up to her neck and she sighed in relief when there was no hand actually there. It was just her imagination, though it felt evocative. It evoked a fear in her, one she wasn't too keen on and she knew she needed something to protect herself with. Fighting with only her bare hands would end grimly, as the word strong did not suit her one bit. She was, however, fast on her feet and could, as her father would say, vamoose out of there. That probably wouldn't be such a bad idea now, seeing as she already said goodbye to her friends, but she wasn't that lousy of a friend to save her own hide. Especially when her own friends were in danger. The least she could do was lead the kook out and away from the house.

So she stepped into the dining room, flipping the light switch on, and skulked around a large dining table. Her heart pounding in her chest as she anxiously looked around the room, keeping her vision alert to any unanticipated movement. There was no sign of life though, asides from her, in the room and the silent ambiance surrounding her made her feel jumpy. Like one of those people in a horror movie. 'That's the last thing I want to compare the situation to.' she thought peevishly. As she took another step, a strange crunch sounded out, making her stop in her tracks. Glancing down, saw little colorful bits and pieces of a broken vase scattered about. She crouched down, interested in the different shades of blue, and went to pick up a piece. Only to have her left pointer finger nicked by a sharp edge. Her hand flinched back, dropping the small shard, and she was forced to stifle a laugh, which was a peculiar reflex of her's when it came to pain, at the stinging pain. She briskly brought her injured finger up to her mouth and sucked at the salty bitter-tasting liquid leaking from the cut. As she did that, her right hand moved over to the sliver of pottery she had cut herself on and warily picked it up, letting it rest on her palm. She shifted it around for few seconds in her hand, feeling the honed edge tickling her flesh, before running her thumb along the smooth ceramic surface of the fragment. How easy would it be for her to just scoop up some of these pieces and give them a squeeze? Letting them get embedded into her skin and spilling more of that nasty tasting red liquid. Or to try and swallow them like pills, to see if they'd tickle her insides like they did her skin? She should definitely get one of her friends to try it out for her, see if the outcome would be like she imagined. She took her finger out of her mouth, wiping the saliva off on her shirt, and stood up, placing the small shard into her pant's pocket. It probably served her no purpose, but it was pretty shade of light blue and she wanted to keep it.

With the mystery of what made the sound now solved, she continued on her search for the person who caused it. Pretending to be a great detective on the hunt for a national jewel thief while doing so. She walking into the next room, which happened to be the living room, and avidly searching for another clue of the person's whereabouts. Coming up short though, her pursuit had to be put on halt. Although she had the perfect evidence that someone else had been here, she had no lead of where to go next since she didn't hear any footsteps. There was nothing she could find that pointed her in the direction of the crazed pot smasher. Who even does that? Just break into a stranger's house and break all their pots? It's not like you're going to find money in there, unless the owner just so happened to hide their stash inside. She strolled over and sauntered up the staircase, having decided to check in on the sleeping girls to make sure that fruitcake didn't try to hurt them. She ambled down the hallway and into their room, inhaling sharply at the sight that laid before her. The girls, whom she had helped into bed earlier, now laid about the floor hacked up into pieces. Their heads, which had been severed from their necks, all sat align on a large pink dresser with little cuts on their faces and their eyelids missing. One even had a broad smile carved upon her cheeks, making her grin from ear to ear. A pungent smell wafted through the air hitting her nostrils, making her face scrunch up in distaste. She was too late, whoever was here had already got to them. She could only pay her respects to her lost friends now, whom she had failed to protect. She didn't even know their names, not that it mattered to her, yet she felt like she betrayed them. Leaving them all alone while a madman or woman ran amok, she really was a bad friend. Tears started to form in her eyes, as she felt kind of heartbroken, and had to turn her head to avoid looking into their somber eyes. She stuck her bottom lip out, pouting, before noticing something written sloppily on one of the walls in a familiar red paint. "Do you like my masterpiece? Next time it'll be you, if you decide steal one of my targets again. And you wouldn't want that. So I suggest you leave this neighborhood now unless you want to go to sleep. ~JTK" she read out loud, confused as to what the message meant. What did it mean by "stealing one of my targets"? What does sleeping have to do with this, sure she was tired but she didn't need this person's help with that. And what does JTK stand for? Just there kidding? Just the king? She wasn't familiar with text talk, only hearing about it from other girl who used this thing called a cellphone, so she had no idea what it could mean. All she knew was that she could leave now, without feeling bad. And sure, she was sad just a few seconds ago, but friends always come and go for her. These friendships never last, she never got to see any of the friends she made after the first meet, and they always gave her the silent treatment like they were mad at her. All she wanted was their love, she wanted to hear them say that they love her. But they didn't have to say it, she knew they loved her, and she loved them too. '_Help me!_' '_It hurts so much!_' '_Make it stop, please!_' '_I'm sorry!_' she shook her head and let out a huff, the soft feminine voices whispering in her ears reminding her of the girls. Whoever this JTK was, they can have what they want. She wanted just wanted to get home, get something to eat, and go to bed. "Sorry girls, this JTK guy won. I'm going home, I had fun though. Sorry you had to be chopped into pieces." she muttered, looking back at their heads. She'll just have to try harder next time.

There was a dark chuckle coming from her blind spot, also known as her left peripheral vision, and as she turned her head to look, she saw a glimpse of white pass by the doorway before hearing footsteps run down the hall.


	4. Chapter 4

Needless to say, she got out of the house rather quickly, only stopping to grab an umbrella propped next to the door. Something deep in her head was telling her to get out of there, even though see saw no actual threat to her, just like whenever the police show up to one of her friend's houses. If that JTK fellow was actually going to hurt her, wouldn't he (she assumed it was a he) have done it already? He could have done it at anytime, not like she was paying any attention to her surroundings before. He could have easily got her while she was asleep. And that message he left for her was just confusing. So, why was she getting all upset? All it seemed was, that he wanted to play with her friends. What if-What if they like him better? Sure, he chopped them into pieces to make his strange art. But she didn't hear them complaining one bit. Heck, one was even smiling from ear to ear. They didn't even need her. They didn't need to be saved. Why couldn't she get them to smile like that? Was she really that bad of a friend, that they would even consider replacing her with someone better? She couldn't go through that, not again. She didn't want to be second best, comparable to anyone else. She wanted to be number one in their eyes, not him! And what if he decides to take her down to the police station where all run away children are taken where they, in return, will either send her to an orphanage or back to her adoptive parents' house. She couldn't risk going back there, she'd be punished for sure! Then she'd never be allowed to see the light of day again, they take away her freedom!

So the second she got out the door, she took off running, bolting down the sidewalk and onto the empty street. She ran like a bat out of hell, into the inky blackness of night. The pale moonlight from before now block by thick angry clouds, growling with thunder like big angry dogs. An obvious sign of rain, but she didn't know that. That's not way she had the umbrella, no, she had it to defend herself if needed. Probably not the best choice of weapons for her, as she preferred something sharp instead of blunt, but it was better than nothing. A loud roar boomed out in the distance and a sudden flash of lightning tore through the darkened sky, lighting up the area briefly with a veiny zigzag line. Her body tensed up at the sound but she didn't let that slow her down at all, only encouraged her to speed up (not that she could go any faster than what she was already going). She clinched the handle of the umbrella tightly in her fist, holding it hard enough for her knuckle to turn white. Her head turned frantically, looking for any place to hide her from the approaching storm and possibly, any suspicious looking people. It was so hard to see anything though, and it's a surprise she hadn't tripped over a pot hole yet. The dingy streetlights, placed all about the neighborhood, did nothing to assist her either. Then another bolt of lightning flash, followed by a clamor of thunder, sending a shiver down her back at the reminder of a heinous crack of a whip. Her body came to an abrupt halt, under the dull white glow of a streetlight, and she almost fell over, wheezing for air. The umbrella dropped from her hand, hitting the concrete with a clatter, but that hardly registered in her mind. Her body was racked with silent laughter, shoulders bouncing up and down, and there was nothing she could do to calm herself down. Nothing that could be said to get her moving again, and she felt light in the head, like she could pass out at any moment. Her legs refused to moved though, feet not wanting to take another step, and she didn't feel in control of her body. She choked on a breath, noticing a quick movement out of the corner of her right eye and something started screaming at her, spouting out gibberish. Her hands instantly flew to her ears, trying to block out the sound, wanting nothing more than for it to stop. It wouldn't stop though, and normally she'd be able to tune out most voices but not when they're screaming at her like this. It was almost like-! Her body trembled, as she fell to her knees. Stomach churning violently as she was thrown into a rough coughing fit, making her heave up a yellow bile that burned her throat. She barely heard the footsteps, moving towards her slowly, over the screams. And her mouth opened, trying to get words to form in between the coughs, but it all seemed lost to her, like she had forgotten how to speak. Instead, her body went limp, eyes rolling to the back of her head, before collapsing to the ground unconscious.

_Rain poured down heavily in the dead of night, pattering against the tin roof tiles outside, like ants pounding on little drums in their ant parade. At least, that's how she imagined the rain; ever since her dad sang her that 'The Ants Go Marching' song. That wasn't the problem though, the rain had never really bothered her. It's what followed some storms, that kept her from sleeping. Thunder rumbled, like the belly of a hungry giant, in background as she curled up into a ball, like a little puppy. Small chubby face peeking out from under a thin blood orange blanket, staring straight at the raindrop covered window pane. Six year old body shaking with fright when a flash of jagged lightning shot off somewhere in a distance. Another loud boom, as her small Winnie the Pooh nightlight beside her bed, giving off a tiny bit of illumination to a portion of the dark room, suddenly cut off. Leaving her in total darkness, asides from the short flashes of light coming from the storm. A whimper escaped her chapped lips, as she tried to cover her face with the blanket, only to have it ripped from her hands by an invisible force. She blindly tried to grab for it but soon realize it had gone over the edge of the bed, a place she deemed off limits at night. It now belonged to the monster under the bed or as she called herself, Lace. She's never actually seen what Lace, or her husband Satin who hides in the closet, but she could go without seeing their faces. "__**Oh love~**__" a light feminine voice called out from under the bed in an accent she didn't recognize, "__**It's quite scary under here. Would ye be a dear and come down here with me? I could use the company.**__" "I-I-I can't. Daddy said y-you're not real. T-that you're imaginary." she mewled at Lace, shaking her head vigorously. "__**Oh, but your daddy says a lot of things. Doesn't mean they're true, just like when your mum tells ye she loves you.**__" the female giggled. "__**The pig is in the blanket. The dog is under the bed. The goat is in the closet, and the frog is in your head~**__" another voice, one more sinister and masculine, started singing as the closet door squeaked open, "__**The cow is on the ceiling. That cat is in the bag. The fish is in the bathtub, and the boar is in your heart~**__" "__**Oi, shut up you bloody wanker! You're singing is rubbish and it's giving me a headache.**__" voice from under the bed groaned in annoyance. "__**Yeah, well, your attempt to be British is offensive and annoying!**__" the voice from the closet huffed. "__**I just thought I'd try something new, you're just jealous the child likes me more.**__" the female hissed, voice laced with venom, dropping the accent. "__**She does not like you anymore than me.**__" the male retorted lowly. "__**Oh dear, please come down and prove to him that you like me more. Remember, boys are icky nasty creatures and you can trust me, a beautiful female like yourself.**__" the female said sweetly,in a tone like her mother would talk to Molly, trying to lure her into leaving the bed. But she knew as long as she stayed where she was, they couldn't touch her. "N-n-no-" her voice barely reached above a whisper, but the female under the bed heard her perfectly, and cut her off with "__**Don't you tell me no, child! I will come up there and eat you whole!**__" "__**Hahahahaha, I told you.**__" the male barked, his deep laughter filling the room. The room got colder each second he laughed, forcing her to wrap her arms around her form in an attempt to keep warm. "J-j-just leave me alone! Y-you c-can't h-hurt me!" her teeth chatted as she spoke, body shaking __unbridled__, and if she could see it, she would see that foggy white mist leaving her lips. Thin pajamas she had on did no good protecting her from the surprise winter forming in her bedroom, having been made more for the warmer seasons. "__**Not yet, child. But eventually you'll have to get up. I bet those little fingers of yours taste good with ketchup.**__" the male growled hungrily, smacking his lips together. A high-pitched creak from the other side of the room swiftly caught her attention, as a flash of lightning flashed, shortly __revealing __a short __figure__. "Sissy, are you awake?" a timid male voice called out through the dark, giving her a momentary of relief and grief. What was he doing here? Doesn't he know the monster will get him? The coldness she had been feeling seemed to fade, letting her warm up enough to stop her chattering teeth, before responding. "Yes, but what are you doing here Cody? Shouldn't you be in mom and dad's room sleeping?" There was a moment of silence, then she heard his footsteps shuffling across the carpet, stopping just at the side of her bed. "I was worried about you..." "That's nice and all, but you can't just stand there! Lace could get you and nibble on your toes!" she shrieked, panicking, making him do the same. He quickly pulled himself onto the bed and wrapped his arms around her neck, into a choking hug. "I don't want my toes nibbled on!" he cried, voice squeaking. "I guess you're stuck her then." she gagged, trying to push him off of her. But any strive in removing him only made his grip tighter and she wondered how bad it'd be to just let him get eaten. It was his fault for coming in here in the first place, she warned him multiple times about the monsters. How would she explain to her parents that their only son got eaten though? "Ugh, let go! Or I'll feed you to Lace and Satin!" He sniffed, letting her go, and muttered the question "Who are they?" "How could you forget so easily?! There the monsters under the bed and in the closet. They're also married and like to eat little children for breakfast! Especially their toes and fingers!" she explained, flinching at another clap of thunder. "How come you hear them and I don't, sis?" "I don't know, maybe I'm special." "Molly says you're crazy, hearing voices and stuff. She thinks it's contagious and told mommy about it. Are you sick or something?" he asked innocently. He didn't know any better but, that question still ticked her off. She wasn't sick! "I am not crazy! They're really there! They come out every night and they're are not nice, just like Molly's face!" she huffed angrily, feeling tears pricking her eyes. "That's not very nice!" her brother yelped. "Well, she's not being very nice! What's her problem?!" The scene that played out next happened so quickly in her mind, her shoving her brother off the bed making him scream loudly, causing their parents to rush into the room with a flashlight. Then her mother grabbed her arm, yanking her up from her bed, and took her out into the dark hallway. Down the-_

She woke up before the memory could finish, right arm sticking up in the air. It was the first time in a long while that she dreamed about her past more accurately... But she didn't need to be reminded of the pain she got in her backside when her mother spanked her. Her eyes opened sluggishly, only to meet the darken eyes of an unfamiliar character.


End file.
